High On You
by Drawn To Those That Never Yawn
Summary: "You're a different sort, Rachel Berry." pre-Sebastian/Rachel, semi-AU.
1. Violent, Sweet, Perfect Words

**AN: So, I am not at all updated with Season 2 or 3. Hell, I've only seen a few episodes, most of which were from the first season. All I know is that Sebastian is a guy who likes Blaine, and Rachel is still in this confusing relationship with Finn. Basically, I deconstructed the entire thing so that no one will go 'THAT ISN'T HOW IT GOES RAWR I ARE MAD NOWS!11!111!1'. Hopefully, anyway. This is semi-AU, so don't get too surprised when I switch something with another. Also, I might continue it, if ever I had the inspiration to pick it up again. But for now, it's a oneshot. **Cheers.**  
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><p><em>I miss the sound of your voice<em>  
><em> Loudest thing in my head<em>  
><em> And I ache to remember<em>  
><em> All the violent, sweet<em>  
><em> Perfect words that you said<em>

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><p>Rachel Berry was not stupid, just mildly unaware of a lot of things that happen with her peers. It wasn't her fault that she didn't count them as competition. Well, save for the very few that were, but they were far away from her at the moment, and there was no other reason for them to pop into her mind other than the fact that she'd already used up most of the morning doing all she needed to do that weekend.<p>

Rachel Berry was Punctual, with a capital P. The only reason she wouldn't be is if she had been mentally, emotionally, or physically injured the moment before a scheduled meeting. Sometimes she arrived early, but even that was a bad thing in her book. In fact, she's reprimanded a lot of people for not doing the same as her, as if it was the most infuriating thing a person could do to her, asides from stealing her limelight. But she had her moments of generosity. Sometimes.

She tapped a finger on a table in the Lima Bean. Her Chai Latte was halfway through, and the croissant she ordered was getting cold. Finn was late, again. It made her blood boil that this was the third time he'd done so the past year. And it was only January, so it was quite a big deal for her.

Rachel Berry was strict with chances. Three strikes, and you're out. With an exasperated sigh, she checked her pink Motorola, a vibration signaling a text. It was already quite obvious that it was Finn, and she rolled her eyes. She'd given so many chances, so, so, so many, for that boy.

_Sry Rach, cant b there, emergency prac at sch._

_-Finn_

Not only did she have an impatience with people who were consistently late for everything, she was also a bit of a Grammar Nazi. Actually, make that a lot. She's forced a lot of people to text properly, and so far, only a few of the girls have complied to this request (order). Deciding that she didn't want any more stress than she already had, she snapped the phone shut and put it in her bag again, opting to ignore it for the rest of the day.

She leaned back, took a deep breath, and decided to contemplate what she'd done wrong this time.

"Bad day?" a somewhat familiar voice said to her, a cocky sort of tone to it. She opened an eye to peek, and saw an unfamiliar attire of black shirt, grey vest, and denim jeans. The split-second look wasn't enough to discern who it was, so she didn't answer.

A moment after, he spoke again, "Well, sorry for trying to act concerned," he drawled with a hint of sarcasm. She then decided that it wasn't Jesse St. Jerk, and sat back up again, opening her eyes to see who was trying to get her back to the real world. He had caramel-coloured hair, pale complexion, hazel eyes, and a grin on his face.

"And you are…?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, trying to confirm who this person was. She knew a lot of people who would just come up to her and talk like they were old friends, and often she was too tactless to think before asking who they were. This ends badly most of the time, but from the looks of him, he didn't seem to mind. Though, the affronted look on his face that appeared for a moment told her otherwise. Oh well, too late for caring now.

"Sebastian Smythe," he replied, stirring his cup of caramel macchiato, or from what she could smell, anyway. She tilted her head a bit, blinking owlishly a few times before accepting this as fact.

"Sorry, I couldn't recognise you without your uniform," she admitted a little sheepishly, reaching for a fork to start on eating her meal. He took a sip of his beverage, and she asked a question. "Do I need to introduce myself or am I still quite known within the Warbler ranks?"

He smirked at that. "A little bit too small for our ego there, Miss Berry," he retorted, wiping a bit of the coffee that accidentally spilled out of his mouth. She smirked.

"Compared to yours. I'd say mine was the Mercury to your Jupiter," she shot back, and he held a hand to his heart, as if he was shot in the area.

"It's not that big!" he disagreed, then slunk back into his chair, drinking a little bit more of the caffeinated beverage before answering. "Maybe it's as big as Uranus," he wiggled his eyebrows, grinning manically.

"Didn't think you were that vulgar, Mr. Smythe," she half-smiled, pleasantly surprised. "But then again, boys will be boys," she shrugged, offering half of the French delicacy. "Want some?"

He shook his head. "I just ate," he looked around then, mindlessly stirring his coffee again like it was no one's business.

"Looking for someone?" she asked, pointing out the obvious. He ignored the question until he nodded to himself, looking back to her.

"No one in particular," he murmured, taking two large gulps of his coffee. "What about you? Waiting for someone?" he asked, out of the blue. She frowned and contemplated on whether or not to answer him in that question.

Her phone vibrated at that moment, which muddled her train of thought for a moment, but ignored it altogether. "Nope, no one in particular," she grinned as she said so. He laced his two hands together, a sly smile on his face, but didn't push the subject.

"So, any reason why you're here in Lima, though your school is in Westerville?" she questioned, raising her eyebrow. He shook his head, a small spark of amusement in his eye.

"Just visiting some people."

"And these people mean an ex-Warbler named Blaine Anderson?" she asked, though it sounded more like a statement. He half frowned, a little put off by the mention of the person's name.

"It's complicated."

"Complicated enough for you to drive two hours just to go to some coffee shop? I think not," she tilted her head, something akin to a smirk on her face, her eyes saying 'you like him'. He sighed despairingly, though that annoyingly fake smile was still in place.

"Alright, Ms. Smarty Pants," he started. "I highly doubt that the person you ignored was an unimportant one," he smirked. She looked like she didn't care, but from the twiddling of her fingers suggested that he hit a nerve.

"No answer?"He said in response to the sudden silence within the table. She only sipped the now cold latte she had, as an acknowledgment of his statement. He shook his head, taking the now empty cup in front of him.

"You're a different sort, Rachel Berry," and with that, he stood up and took her hand and kissed her lightly on the knuckles. She held down the giggle that was building up in her throat. After that, he walked to the nearest trashcan, deposited his cup, and then waltzed out of the coffee shop.

The brunette tried her best to shake the giddiness she was feeling at the pit of stomach.

_No, Rachel! You have a boyfriend! And he's gay, for Pete's sake!_ The internal banter raged within her, even after she'd exited the place, a bright smile on her face. A bright smile that wasn't caused by Finn Hudson, for a change.

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><p>She paused for a moment, just as she passed a public park. She groaned in realisation, then continued in walking.<p>

_Here we go again._


	2. Love's Right Behind You

**AN: So, erm, I have no idea how dates go, since I'm only 14 and all that stuff. Hopefully you'll ignore the inaccuracies. I don't own Glee, nor White Dress, nor Come On Get Higher by Matt Nathanson. Cheers.**

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><p><em>She hears the angels out on the streets<em>  
><em>Tonight as she walks right by oh they sing so softly<em>  
><em>They sing "oh whoah, oh whoah, oh whoah<em>  
><em>Love's right behind you oh whoah"<em>

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><p>Her meetings with Sebastian Smythe were irregular, as her visits to Lima Bean were also irregular. She didn't have to turn to caffeine before, but she was a senior, and entrance exams and college applications didn't make themselves, especially with the rapidly depleting amount of time between today and the day she was going to get her diploma. It was all nerve-wracking, but Rachel Barbra Berry didn't do nerve-wracking.<p>

Within the span of this year and the yesteryears though, she had done some new things. For example, she expanded her repertoire, adding more of the pop songs (but stayed away from mainstream, as those required modification using software, and she wasn't about to degrade her voice into something that still needed editing in order to sound right) to her song selections. She has been, in fact, taken by a few obscure vocalists and semi-famous bands that didn't quite make it, but they made amazing music all the same.

It wasn't Broadway, but fame wasn't just about Broadway. She was lounging on an armchair this time, sitting opposite to an empty chair, and a Strawberries and Cream Frappucino sitting in front of her.

This was another step to another direction; Rachel Berry wasn't completely vegan anymore. She's been having lesser and lesser time dedicated to arranging her diets for the next few weeks, and it's taken a toll to her choices. Of course, her veganism wasn't completely thrown out of the window; she still disliked eating meats, fish, and eggs, so there was still a little bit of the Rachel she knew before.

A planner was open on the circular table, a shining gold pen in the middle. Her swirling penmanship adorned the guiding lines; a more harried but still legible style of writing adorned the edges, taking up almost every bit of space in the light yellow pages. Sometimes she'd write down random thoughts as they came to her, but that was only when she had free time, and that was a long time ago. She sighed, stared out the window as the world went about its business, passing by her without the bat of an eyelash. That was all going to change, she swore to herself.

"Alone yet again, I see," the familiar voice came from her right, as she took off an earbud, placing it in the pocket of her jacket. The Warbler previously mentioned carried with him a tray, a plate with a sandwich and a caramel macchiato.

He didn't need to ask if he could sit there, she just automatically put the plastic cup and planner on one side, so he could set down the item he was holding. It was a weird dynamic that the two had between them: If one was eating something the previous meeting, the other would be the next one to have a meal the next time they'd meet.

And because Rachel was still as punctual as ever, this system never changed, not really.

"Still here in Lima, I see," she retorted, crossing her arms, though lighthearted grin on her face gave her away. He stirred his coffee a bit before drinking, and then he thought of a wittier comeback.

"Still waiting on me, I see," he replied, a smirk settling on his face.

"You wish, Smythe," she rolled her eyes, slurping a bit of the mixture of fruit and cream in her beverage holder.

"It's not a wish when it's true," he shook his head, clicking his tongue. "You're getting a tad too slow for this, Berry. Are you feeling okay?" he asked sarcastically, though there was still that fine edge of concern that barely showed, but she knew as there. She sighed in lamentation, staring out the window, before looking back to him.

"I'm alright. It's just the fact that it's our final year, and college applications are all over the place. Nationals and Glee is also a huge factor to all of this," she sighed again, massaging her temples with her left hand. "So many things are happening at once, and I feel like sleep is way too far away."

He shrugged, trying to look like he didn't care and at the same time look like he did, as he ate his sandwich hungrily. "I can relate," he half-frowned, unused to this melancholic and tired Rachel Berry. He had gotten so used to the fiery and intense one he met in competition a year ago.

"Something tells me you can't, but I appreciate the sympathy," her smile looked like a grimace, as she took her planner and put it inside her bag. He tapped his chin a few times, in thought.

"I know just what you need, Rachel Barbra Berry," he said, out of the blue. Her eyebrow raised.

"Oh?" she replied, drinking the rest of her beverage, wiping the cream mustache that might've formed then. "Praytell me what it is, Sebastian Luther Smythe?" She mocked him by copying the movement he made as she talked. He grinned, taking this as a compliment, but went down to business.

"You, my dear, need a day out," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, chewing the last bit of his sandwich, then taking a gulp of his drink in order to keep it down. He then leaned back on the armchair, elbows on the armrests, hands tangled to one another. He looked like a modern day Sherlock, had he not worn that atrociously red scarf today. "What do you say?"

She lifted her shoulders in an attempt to shrug. "I could use a break from all that crazy," considering the fact that she was already seven kinds of crazy, her situation might have been more stressful than he originally thought. "Do we go now, or do we have to finish our drinks?" She asked, wiping her hand of the condensed moisture she acquired from the plastic container. He shrugged in return.

"Your choice. My beverage of choice is warmer than yours, seeing as it is still snowing a bit outside," he hinted, to which she rolled her eyes at.

"Alright, Mr. Know-It-All. Let's go," she said in a slightly exaggerated bored tone, standing up and readjusting the strap of her bag. The black trench coat she wore was in sharp contrast to the white dress and red boots she also had on. They seemed to match, as Sebastian was wearing black jeans, white shoes, a red shirt, and a black jacket. Rachel noted this, and grinned as he picked up her cup of coffee, leaving the plate of crumbs behind him as they walked out of the store.

"What?" he finally asked, as they walked down the street. She gestured to their clothes; apparently obtaining gloves within the time it took for him to finish off his food and for them to exit the place.

"We match," she remarked smoothly, and he raised an eyebrow at the similarities. "That we do, that we do."

"Great minds do think alike, eh?" she said, as they passed a myriad of commercial stores of downtown. He shrugged, though he had a slight grin on his face. Soon they'd walked far enough to go past the buildings, and they reached the suburbs. Some of it, anyway.

A park was right up ahead, and the lake seemed to be frozen over. A few people took this as an opportunity, and were renting out ice skates for the brave ones who wanted to try. He nudged the shorter girl, pointing at the frozen body of water. "Ever tried ice skating before, Berry?"

"Sometimes, when I had time out of my schedule," she muttered into her gloves, still quite freezing. "Why, have you?" she ventured, as he took her hand and leaded her to the recreational space, kicking away the white frost to show the dirt underneath.

"Not at all, but now's a good time as ever, right?" he looked at her and smiled. For a moment, she thought her heart skipped a beat, and then he started running.

Because she didn't want to get dragged in the snow, she started running too.

It was exhilarating, filled her up with energy, she didn't want to let the sensation go, but then they reached the bottom of the hill, where the lake was found, a few kids with their parents and teenagers on the ice. Some attempted to skate, while some few looked like they actually knew what they were doing. A feeling of dread pooled in Rachel's stomach, as she hoped no one there would recognise her.

She was left standing there, as her companion went ahead and rented them some skates. He returned to her with white ones, the laces a bright neon pink. She grinned in appreciation of the attention to detail, and they found a tree stump where they could leave their things. She wanted to question how he found out her shoe size, but she ignored it in favour of actually putting the shoes on. They were the perfect fit.

He was already by the edge of the ice, already gotten his balance, hand held out for her. She was kind of glad that it was really cold; he'd tease her mercilessly if he found out that the blush on her cheeks wasn't caused by the low temperatures. She walked like a toddler doing their first steps, and it was a little bit of an embarrassing sight to see, for her, anyway. If she had been with Santana or Quinn, she'd be laughed at, because they'd probably had lessons.

When she reached the edge of the ice, she was a little bit too eager, and slipped the moment she stepped in and landed on her butt. He still had the nerve to laugh at her, but he did help her up after he sobered up, a little bit of help from the glare she shot him.

"Are you sure you've done this before?" he asked, giggling. Her eyes were still narrowed, but soon enough, she was giggling along with him.

The rest of the hour was spent re-teaching Rachel how to skate, maintaining Sebastian's equilibrium amidst his uncharacteristic giggling, and of course, falling down about a third of the time. It was quite obvious that they had a lot of fun, as the one manning the rentals remarked that they were quite the happy couple. They - of course - reacted by denying this profusely, but the middle-aged man wasn't quite convinced.

Soon they were back on the sidewalk again, though it seemed like Rachel gave up a glove for him to wear as well. "So, how did you learn how to skate like that?" she poked him in the chest with her gloved hand, placing the other in the pocket of her jacket to keep it warm. Honestly, she had no idea why she was wearing a dress when she knew perfectly well that it was -6 degrees out.

"I took lessons when I was ten," he admitted with a shy half-smile. She was taken aback by this response. The Sebastian she knew liked mind games, and liked smirking, not smiling shyly. It was a bit of a surprise, but she kind of like this Sebastian as well as his cocky, arrogant self.

"Where to next, then?" she asked, as Matt Nathanson started singing in her left ear. The music calmed her, and seemed to bring a sharp summer heat to her body, ignoring most laws of natural order by ignoring the external environment and making her feel like it was a cool summer day.

_So come on get higher,_  
><em>Loosen my lips,<em>  
><em>Faith and desire at the swing of your hips,<em>

She hummed, as a few more houses started appearing.

"_Pull me down hard, and drown me in love_," he sang, looking at her with a sort of endearing look. She smirked and punched him in the arm, convinced that the emotion behind that look was merely an illusion.

"_So come on, get higher, loosen my lips, faith and desire and the swing of your hips_," she reiterated, singing this time.

"_Just pull me down hard, and drown me in love_," he repeated, taking her hand and twirling her around. She grinned widely, and didn't seem to notice that they were going back to the downtown area, singing and dancing all the way back.

"_I miss the sound of your voice_," she beat him to the second verse, though he only grinned as an acknowledgement of that fact. "_The loudest thing in my head_," he sang, putting his hands aside his ears, and acting as if he were a cartoon and he'd been hit by a gong. She shook her head, the knowing smile still on her face.

"_And I ache to remember_," he continued. "_All the violent, sweet, perfect words that you said_," they sang together, already passing by two boutiques, unminding of that fact.

It was just so easy to lose the world in themselves, singing and dancing as they went on their merry way, as if Rachel's experiences with Jesse St. James, Sebastian's lingering infatuation for Blaine Anderson, their glee club teammates probably threatening the other side with guns and knives, it was as if all of that went away, even for the meager 3 minutes and 32 seconds that the song cost. All for the music, after all.

"So come on get higher, loosen my lips, faith and desire at the swing of your hips," the Warbler sang this time, as the last repeat of the chorus came around, as they slowed down with their walking.

"Pull me down hard, and drown me in love," she continued, and he took her hand for what must've been the umpteenth time today, and lead her inside a restaurant she hadn't seen before, but it looked all kinds of fancy.

_This is all wrong_, she thought as he sang those same lines, though not quite in the reason she was thinking it. "_It's all wrong, it's all wrong_."

"_It's all wrong, it's so right_."

"_So come on get higher, come on get higher_."

"_'Cause everything works, love_."

"Everything works in your arms," she said, smiling as she made herself comfortable in the seat they were given. He tilted his head, and gave her this look that she was sure had to be an illusion. Sebastian Smythe, she knew, was a cocky bastard and didn't quite have the hang of love. He infatuates, he obsesses, never loves. Even if he did, he was gay.

"Is there something in my teeth?" she quoted Elphaba in mock horror, just to break the sudden and awkward silence that fell upon them. He chuckled and shook her head, now taking a look at the menu they were provided with. She blushed, and followed his example then.

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><p>As Sebastian was walking towards a taxi station, something hit him, an epiphany of sorts. <em>No, Rachel Berry is a girl. You're gay! Besides, she has a boyfriend!<em> He chided himself, shaking his head. But the vision of doe eyes and shining ebony hair wouldn't get out of his mind.

He sat on a public bench, a hand covering his face. _Here we go again._


	3. You're On Your Way

**AN: Sorry for not updating too frequently. I've been so busy the past few days/weeks that it was almost mandatory for my body to pass out when I got home. Also, I apologise for the slightly lacking length, my creativity's being used up enthusiastically by everything at the moment. However, I will try to get the next chapter up tomorrow, or the day after that. I don't own City Of Angels by Corrinne May, cheers.**

**Tip: This is a Rachel-centric chapter, Sebastian will reappear in the next one, but I'm not sure if Rachel will make an appearance.  
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><p><em>Empty beds in furniture stores<em>  
><em>Angels sleep on skid row floors<em>  
><em>Broken wings for a dollar a pound<em>  
><em>"Can you spare some change?"<em>

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><p>It was business as usual the following weeks, with less stress on college applications. School work, schedules, the occasional slushie, a few taunts from the jocks that were brushed away easily enough, and – of course – glee club. It was a Friday, and everyone was jittery to return to their schedules for the weekend.<p>

Thirteen or so people were seated on uncomfortable plastic seats, and the bell rung for the last time that day. Mr. Schue asked if anyone wanted to perform a song today, naturally, everyone looked at her, but it was another person who held up their hand.

She sat out a performance today, as she didn't prepare one. (She had to practice her scales and had piano lessons, successfully mastering a few pieces both modern and classical, to make up for the absence.) Instead, Sam had taken his place in front, a mic in front of him, and an electric guitar playing a tune from Parachute. She and he had a project for another subject two weeks prior, and he overheard the song playing from her iPod dock. He was grinning, another blonde (a certain cheerio and ex-bitch) in front of him both affronted and flattered at his song of choice. It was a rather funny face she pulled, and Rachel wished she had brought a camera with her.

She had spaced out, and snapped back to reality, just as the instrumental ended and the second verse started.

"_She wears a gold cross_," Sam sang, as the strong guitar chords simmered back into background music. "_She sheds her skin but it never comes off_," he winked at Quinn, who blushed quite prettily at the words. Some of the glee members made hoots, hollers, and catcalls, until they settled down and continued the song.

"_She hears the angels on the streets tonight, and she walks right by,_" he looked at the back, where Brittany and Tina were swaying, and gave them two thumbs up. "_And they sing so softly_," he pointed to the two girls.

"_They sing oh whoah, oh whoah, oh whoah_," the two harmonised beautifully, as Sam rejoined them, taking the mic off the stand. "_Love's right behind you_," he left the guitar playing to the band, adding an instrumental instead of going ahead with the chorus. He led her to the front, and she sat down on the chair. He resumed his guitar riffs and replaced the microphone, starting the chorus just in time.

"_I wanna love you more_," he put a foot on the side of the stand, and let it fall towards Quinn, who smiled brightly. "_Than all of the things you wanted, than all of the things you're not_," he nodded to the backups, then continued. "_You wanna have it all_," she had the gall to be insulted, though everyone in the room knew that it was true. "_She found it in the city, but the city doesn't talk_," the guitar ended, and only the drums' shimmering sound remained.

She spaced out again, looking at the people in the room. Clearly everyone was having a good time, she even saw Santana smiling proudly at the back, and that was a feat in itself. Rachel looked over to the other side, and saw that one wasn't having a good time. One that towered over her by more than two or three inches, and was the quarterback of the school football team. He was glaring at the wall in jealousy, as always.

Barely a wisp of him appeared in her thoughts the past few days. Heck, they haven't been in a proper date for a month! It was a little unsettling, but Rachel didn't really care about it. She was shocked at her own reaction, but thankfully everyone was still absorbed in Sam's performance to care much about everything else. A fleeting thought of _maybe I should break up_ with him crossed her mind, and she seemed to contemplate this, but the day was almost over, and she didn't have enough time to reflect on the hours after. She tucked the idea in the back of her head, as everyone clapped for the rendition of White Dress.

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><p>"Rachel, we need to talk," were the urgent words she heard the countertenor utter to her, just as she closed her locker for the last time that day. She sighed and looked over at resident fashionista (alongside Mercedes Jones), who looked at her up and down – as he always did with her – and nodded approvingly at her blue and brown getup.<p>

"What is it Kurt?" she asked, genuinely confused. They didn't have any sort of party with alcohol, nor did they have some sort of get-together the weekend before (not that anyone invited her to any of them, she thought bitterly).He sighed, exasperated, and gave her a piercing stare, as if she should already know what he wanted to talk about.

"That little performance you had with a certain Warbler?" his tone was tight but oddly gleeful, as he adjusted the strap of his satchel. She was puzzled, how did he witness that little stunt they pulled? They were barely at the edge of town! Her face must have been an open book then, when he replied with, "You passed by a boutique that I was about to exit. You two were so enamoured with yourselves that you didn't even notice me," he seemed affronted by this, but it was far too trivial a matter that he only laughed it off then.

Rachel Berry was a hard person to render speechless, however, these were the very few times that she was. Her lips were pursed, arms crossed, and _oh god how was she going to get herself out of this now?_

"I will explain everything to you if you don't tell anyone else," she proposed, twisting the heel of her foot in the peeling linoleum floors. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at her.

"Why should I trust you? Remember the last time you were infatuated with the opponent?" he said frostily. She tried her best not to flinch when she remembered the memory of egg goop running down her face, mixed with her tears.

"Because I assure you, this will be the last time I'm going to mingle with the competition," which was the truth, since they were all heading for university the next year, anyway. He paused, thinking of another question.

"What about Finn?" he asked, and she was reminded of the idea she had conjured in the middle of glee.

"I admit, our relationship was rocky at best, but I feel like that chapter of our lives is coming to a close. It was an amiable one," _compared to others, anyway._ "But I don't think we'll last another four years," he nodded in what seemed to be approval, then offered his arm to link.

"Right answer, Rachel Berry. Now spare no details," he said with an ecstatic smile on his face as he led them both to the doors to exit the building.


End file.
